


This One Salvation

by AmorVerdan



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-23 08:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmorVerdan/pseuds/AmorVerdan
Summary: Agent Erik Lehnsherr was a dedicated CIA agent intent on finding out the truth about his parents' death. He had never known another life apart from what his job had to offer but when he was tasked to "babysit" the young, wealthy Xavier heir, the secrets surrounding a past he could not exactly remember start to unravel. Would he be able to uncover the truth before they get to him?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first X-men fanfic and my second ever fan fiction. This is based on an original story I wrote a few years ago. I aged Moira a bit because I really want her to be this badass head of the CIA but she isn't very nice in this fic. Sorry guys. All references are from X-men movies only. I have never read the comics. Thank you! Have fun and hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

**Prologue**

 

**_CIA Headquarters,_ **

**_Langley_ **

 

His name was Erik Lehnsherr.

He had been working for the CIA for the past eight years. They recruited him when he was only eighteen. His work consisted mostly of covert missions and long-term undercover assignments.

He was the CIA’s most prized possession. And it wasn’t just because he was pretty.

He began working for them when he was eighteen but he was already in training as early as age ten. How did that happen? Well it was a long story, and also the reason how he became the most indispensable member of the black-ops division.

Just know that he had not always been working for the CIA.

His parents were killed when he was nine. He was told that they died in a car crash but he was not born yesterday. He knew that his parents did not simply die of the said stupid make-believe incident, but so far he still had not uncovered the truth. That was the primary reason why he agreed to work with the CIA in the first place: to know the truth behind his parents’ deaths.

But before he was working for the CIA, there was somebody else. A couple took Erik in when he was nine. He thought they were going to be his new parents but he could not have been more wrong. The next six years of his life became a huge blur of killing, blood, more killing, training, a little bit of fucking and other fucked up shit. They trained him to become the best and he almost died in the process. He was the most creative motherfucker in the business and his reflexes were next to no one. He needed to become the best because it was a matter of life and death.

Everything about him, his skills, his _everything,_ was programmed into him. His control over his mutation was unparalleled. He was a robot, trained to kill and to kill only. They started young. They said it was like teaching a child to play the piano, seeing one’s potential at a very young age and holding onto it, honing it, until it became perfect. One of a kind. Exceptional.

It was a few years later when he realised that he was not an agent. He was an assassin.

His first assignment was when he was twelve. He was sent to kill an oil magnate’s son.

It was truly easy. Especially for someone like Erik who can control metal as easy as breathing. Bullets were no match for him. Killing that man was truly of no consequence.

He was not stupid, however. No matter how much they defended themselves, no matter how much they proclaimed that they were doing what they were doing for the good of mutant-kind, Erik knew he was not working for the good guys. He knew that the moment they touched that live wire to his body to force his powers to manifest when he was only ten years old. They were sick fucks. They experimented on children, making them into soldiers to fight in a war that they didn’t even know. He knew he was not the only one they used. He knew he was not the only one they experimented on.

But there wasn’t anything he could do. He had never known a life apart from them, apart from what he was raised in, and he was afraid that if he tried to escape, he would not be able to make it. Besides, Erik knew that if they saw the slightest indication of disobeying an order, they would get rid of him quite as easily as he got rid of that oil magnate’s son.

He had been to many more assignments since then and he never questioned their intentions. Not once. He was a soldier and he was trained never to ask any questions and do as he was told. As long as they gave him food and a place to sleep in, he never raised a single question.

That was until the assignment that changed his life at the age of eighteen.

On site, he was captured by the enemy. They were not prepared for the mutation dampeners that were placed all over the building. Erik was strong even without his powers but he was caught by surprise. He did not realise that he was walking into a trap. They were waiting for him. At the time, he thought it was his fault. He should have realised that he had been betrayed. He was given up as a distraction to save the others. He was wrong. He was dispensable.

They did not kill him. Of course not. It was common knowledge that you never kill a captive unless absolutely necessary. You interrogate them and get what was needed by _whatever means necessary._

When Erik woke up, he was tied to a chair in the middle of a dark, spacious room with no metal in sight. It looked like an ordinary motel room, except there were no beds. They asked him the standard questions: the people he worked for and what sort of work he did for them.

Of course he knew what to do. It had been grilled into him since he was a boy that if he was captured and could not kill himself, he was to endure for as long as possible. Tell them nothing until he found a way to off himself by any means possible.

So they tortured him to the brink of death and brought him back again and again. There were times when he thought he was sinking into the peaceful oblivion of death only to be brought back and tortured again like he was some helpless animal. Erik endured though, all the while thinking that he had been through worse. Because he really had.

When he still refused to talk, they drugged him and put him in a plane. It was great thinking on their part, keeping him asleep all throughout the flight because giant metal planes and tortured metal manipulators did not mix well.

The next thing he knew, he was in a hospital facing a prim and proper lady, probably in her forties, whom he had never met before. He could not think properly. The drugs were still coursing through his system. His body did not hurt but he was numb. Totally numb.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked groggily.

“My name is Moira McTaggert,” she answered. “I’m the head of the black-ops division of the CIA. I am also the assistant director.”

“What do you want with me?” He asked. At that point, he did not really care what they wanted. He just needed to say something. There were so many metal things around him that he could use to kill himself. As soon as he had full control of his abilities, he was going to do it.

“You have been in Interpol’s most wanted list for a long time now.” She answered, shaking her head. “Killing innocent people. Terrorising honest, hardworking men.” Her tone was flat but despite Erik’s drugged state, he could hear the anger behind it.

Despite everything though, he could not hold back his laughter. “ _Honest, hard working men?_ ” He said incredulously. “You mean people who enslave mutants? People who look at us as though we’re animals that they can use to do their bidding?” How ironic that the people he killed were the same as the people who asked him to kill them.

Moira McTaggert did not say anything. She was probably thinking that same thing he was. She was silent for a few moments but when she next spoke, the anger in her voice was gone. “For the past few years, you have been working for Hellfire, an all-mutant group who specialises in organised crime. They have been using you to eliminate certain people whom they did not feel like keeping alive.”

It was not anything that he did not already know so he just said, “How do you want me to react to that?”

“I am not expecting you to do anything,” she answered calmly.

“Well obviously you have an agenda here,” Erik told her, trying his best to sit up in bed. “So you’re CIA? You captured and didn’t kill me. What do you want from me?”

“For your crimes, it would not be enough to kill you,” she answered. “You may only be a child but we cannot let you go. You may know what you were doing and I believe that you really had no intention of growing up in that kind of life but it’s too late for you now.”

Erik already knew that. He knew it the moment he was old enough to understand what he was doing. “Then kill me,” he said determinedly. He had never been afraid of death. The worst enemies were the people who did not have anything to lose and he had been that ever since he could remember.

“However,” Moira McTaggert said as though Erik did not say anything. “I also recognise real talent. You were born for this. It would be a waste not to make use of you.”

It occurred to Erik then that he should have probably been offended when he was referred to as something to be used but it did not really register. He was so used to being referred to that way his entire life that it did not really matter. He was a thing, born and made for whatever purpose he may serve.

“I’m flattered,” he said sarcastically.

“I will give you the chance to redeem yourself. You will work for us. You will help us eliminate Hellfire. You will do whatever we ask of you, no questions, and we will keep you alive. Do we have an agreement?”

It was the same job. Just a different master.

Moira McTaggert was looking at Erik as though she knew there was no other answer for him but to say yes. He supposed that was true, really. If he wanted to stay alive, he would have to say yes.

“Well, you can go to hell,” he said with a sneer.


	2. The Assignment

**_CIA Headquarters,_ **

**_Langley_ **

**10 years later**

“Wake up, Erik!”

Erik immediately shot up, grabbing the hand that he felt was prodding him and twisting it at the back of the man whom he presumed was the one who yelled into his ear moments before.

“Hey Erik, stop! It’s me!” Alex Summers shouted, clearly in pain.

“What the fuck Alex?” Erik said, calming down a little and releasing Alex’s arm.

“Shit. I think you broke my wrist,” Alex said, looking at Erik angrily while touching his wrist gingerly. “What the fuck was that about?”

“You know better than to scare me.” Erik chastised him. “I could have killed you.” It was true. There were a million metal things inside the room that he could have used to impale Alex without meaning to.

“As you would have done a million times already,” Alex answered, glaring at him. “Stop sleeping on the conference table. That’ll minimise the risk of you killing your team.”

“Apologies,” Erik murmured.

Alex huffed and started laying down files on the long conference table.

Erik was dreaming. It was strange. He had been dreaming of that particular time of his life quite frequently during the past few days. He wondered what his subconscious was trying to tell him.

“So are we going to get this party started or what?” A familiar voice said as the glass doors slid open. Logan Howlett stepped in, looking as grumpy as ever. _Annoying motherfucker,_ Erik thought briefly.

“Shut up, Wolverine,” Emma Frost said exasperatedly, coming in just behind Logan.

Erik had been working for the CIA for the past ten years now, operating under the legal name of Magnus Prince (and a number of other aliases). He did not initially want to work for them, recalling his conversation with Assistant Director McTaggert at that hospital ten years ago. However, he hated the fact that Hellfire was still using other mutant children, training them and torturing them to do their bidding. He knew he had no other choice but to work with the CIA if there was any chance at all of him bringing down Hellfire and killing them all.

Besides, working with the CIA put him in the perfect position to figure out what happened to his parents years ago.

He made a vow to himself, however, that when this was all over, once his parents’ death had been avenged and Hellfire was no more, he was never going back to this kind of life. He wanted out. He planned on disappearing and never returning.

At the moment, they were in Langley, the CIA headquarters, about to be briefed for their latest assignment. Their beloved Assistant Director, Moira McTaggert, had called a few hours ago. They were not exactly a common tactical team. For one thing, they were black ops and they were all mutant. Their assignments were the dirtiest jobs. Jobs that regular CIA operatives never want to touch.

It seemed fitting, seeing as every member of their team was “tainted”. _In a way_.

They were all directly under the command of Assistant Director Moira McTaggert. Erik still despised the woman with all of his entire being but he had to admit, over the past few years, she had been the closest to kin that he had ever known.

“Where’s the shrew?” Logan asked, referring to the Assistant Director. Erik was not the only one who had a love-hate relationship with the woman. In fact, their whole team thought of her much the same as Erik did.

First in their team was the man Erik almost strangled just moments prior, Alex Summers, a guy who could shoot off energy blasts from his chest that could destroy anything within his radius. He was younger than Erik by a few years. He was in a maximum security prison, in isolation, before the CIA found him. At the time, he was not yet in control of his powers and he was afraid of hurting other people. When he joined the CIA, they helped him control his powers and it was a few years later that he was introduced to Erik and the second member of their team, Logan.

Logan Howlett had been with the CIA since before Erik or Alex joined the team. No one really knew how old he was, all they knew was that he was older than all of them combined. Logan never ages though. It was a part of his mutation, along with his ability to heal from any and all injuries as well as his adamantium claws. According to him though, his claws had not always been adamantium. He just had his whole skeleton replaced with the metal. Erik did not really know the full story and he never bothered to ask because Logan was not really one for heart to heart talks.

Then there was Emma Frost, their telepath. She joined the team just a few years after Erik did. He had always been wary of her since Erik considered her mutation to be the most troublesome. He could deal with people doing a great number of things to him but he never wanted any of them in his head. Emma often used her powers on him though, just to piss him off.

“The shrew is right in front of you,” Emma told Logan mockingly. Erik never really understood their relationship. They hated each other with a passion but he was absolutely certain that they would be willing to die for one another if it came to it. Logan’s was the only mind Emma cannot directly penetrate. There was something about his mutation that protected his mind and Emma loved it and hated it at the same time.

Before Logan could respond to bring about their usual banter, the glass doors slid open again to reveal the Assistant Director. He walked over to her seat at the head of the conference table and sat down. Logan and Emma took their seats as well.

“Good morning. Thank you all for coming. Let us proceed to the assignment immediately.” The large LED screen behind her immediately lit up showing the face of a man who looked vaguely familiar playing gold with some other obscure people in the background.

“His name is Charles Xavier,” the Assistant Director began, “known to his friends and family as Charles, currently residing in England and is a professor of genetics at Oxford University. He is the son of Brian Xavier and I’m sure all of you know him.”

Now it all made sense to Erik. Xavier was one of the biggest names in the world, a family that came from old money and Brian Xavier was one of the most famous scientist and innovator in the world at the moment. In fact, the Xaviers were pretty much royalty. Charles Xavier had also been making a name, aside from being the Xavier heir, in recent years and his papers on genetics and mutation were some things that Erik was not ashamed to say that he had read. The tabloids loved him as well, painting the Xavier heir as a party-boy and a drunk.

However, what did the Xaviers, specifically Charles, have to do with the CIA?

“Are we supposed to kill him or something?” Erik asked candidly and Alex looked at him as though he was out of his mind.

It was not really that surprising a question. It was kind of what they did. He was not going to sugarcoat what the black ops team was for. They eliminate threats that the world did not exactly see as threats: dictators, dirty businessmen and whomever was the target for the week. It was just what they did.

“You will do no such thing,” McTaggert said almost angrily. “This mission involves infiltrating his school, his job, basically his _life_ and _protecting_ him. Agent Lehnsherr, you will be the lead in this operation—”

“Wait, wait,” he interrupted. “Are you telling me that we’re supposed to babysit this rich brat’s ass?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes that is exactly what I’m telling you to do.” McTaggert said firmly. “Let me finish. Agent Lehnsherr, you will be posing as a bartender in the coincidentally newly opened bar near his campus. Congratulations. You will be with Emma and Alex and Logan will be your back-up. You have MI-6’s full cooperation. Any other questions?”

There were a million and one questions running through Erik’s mind but he could not voice a single one of them because if he did, he might literally stab McTagger with a flying letter opener. Luckily, Alex chose that moment to say, “This mission is a fucking joke.”

“Why the fuck’s this kid so important?” Logan asked seriously and they all turned to McTaggert for her answer.

She heaved a deep sigh and said, “We have received intelligence that Hellfire has developed a new technology that could prove devastating to us all, humans and mutants alike.”

Emma suddenly gasped, realisation dawning on her. “Cerebro,” she whispered. Erik has heard of Cerebro before. It was something that the CIA had been attempting to build as well but to no success. A successful Cerebro could reach the minds of humans and mutants all over the world but only a telepath can use it. A powerful one. Emma had tried before using one of the CIA prototypes but it almost killed her and she declared that she would never want to subject herself again to that kind of torture. She described it as somewhat like a billion minds screaming inside her head.

“Yes,” McTaggert confirmed. “And Mr. Xavier is one of the most powerful telepaths in the world. We have reason to believe that he _can_ use Cerebro and for that reason, Hellfire wants him.”

Erik’s jaw dropped. There was never any mention of Charles Xavier being a mutant. An exceptionally powerful telepath at that.

“Imagine if they do manage to control Cerebro, how much devastation it will cause the world. With a snap they can kill off an entire race, or command an army to do their bidding.” McTagger explained. “We _must_ protect Charles Xavier at all cost.”

It really was not just a simple babysitting job after all.

“Why us though?” Erik asked. As far as he knew, they did not need black ops for this. A simple CIA tactical team in cooperation MI-6 will do. “Is it because it’s Hellfire?” He ventured to ask.

“That,” McTaggert confirmed, “and the fact that I happen to know that you would never turn down this case once you knew the full details. Brian Xavier was your father’s closest friend, Agent Lehnsherr.”

Erik felt himself stop breathing for a second or two. “What do you mean?” He asked, stunned. He had never told McTaggert or anyone else that he had been investigating his parents’ death.

“If you truly want to find out more about your parents’ death, I suggest you start with Brian Xavier. He was around at the time of their death. If there was anyone who knew what happened, it would be him.” She answered. “And the man had actually been searching for you for the past eighteen years.”

Searching for him? Brian Xavier had all the resources in the world at his disposal. If he truly had been searching for his closest friend’s son, he would have found him by now. Unless of course Hellfire previously, and now the CIA had been blocking his attempts, which, he had to admit, was the most likely explanation.

“So what do you want me to do? Walk up to him and say I’m Jakob’s son? That’ll work out well.” Erik said sarcastically.

“The plan has already been arranged months in advance.” McTaggert said mechanically and the way she said it made Erik think that the plan had actually been set into motion quite a long time ago. “All you need to do is to not deviate from it. You will also be operating under the alias Max Eisenhardt so it probably would not be too difficult.”

“Are you kidding me?” Max Eisenhardt was his birth name, the name his parents gave him, the only piece of himself that he had not surrendered to the demons that took him when he was just a child. It was precious to him and he never wanted to use it ever again. That boy, Max, was dead. He had been for a long time.

“Under the given circumstances, it is the perfect alias.” Logan said thoughtfully.

“How the hell am I supposed to to convince him that I am indeed who I say I am?” Erik challenged. Brian Xavier was a wealthy man. There would have been a slew of Max Eisenhardts over the years that would have tried to insinuate themselves into his family if he really had been searching.

“Your records have been arranged. Brian Xavier is not a stupid man and he will definitely search for anything to prove your identity. We have everything covered. And if he insists on a DNA test, well, there really isn’t any reason for us to say no.” McTaggert said,

A rising sense of panic was threatening to eat Erik up from the inside. He decided to ignore it in favour of glaring at McTaggert.

“Anymore questions?” McTaggert asked.

“Why do we have to go through all of this covert shit?” Alex said. “We could just tell the world about Charles Xavier being like the only one who can operate Cerebro. I’m sure every government in the entire world will be rushing in to protect him.”

“Can you imagine how much burden that will put into him? He’s just a civilian. He doesn’t have anything to do with our world. It’s not his fault that he has a powerful mutation as I’m sure you all understand.” McTaggert explained.

Erik had to admit that she was right and the silence that followed her explanation proved that the others were thinking the same thing.

“If there are no more questions,” McTaggert said after a short moment of silence, “please read the files for more detailed instructions regarding this mission and the profiles of the people concerned. We will meet again tomorrow for the final details.” With that, she stood up and walked out of the conference hall immediately.

Erik grabbed the file, standing as well and ready to go and read it somewhere where no one could disturb him. He had to find out what he can about Brian Xavier and his family. He wanted to know everything about them.

He did not want to let himself hope but he could not help it. This could be a way out for him. Maybe he could finally find out what happened to his parents and he could finally get out of the CIA.

He felt someone’s hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see Logan looking at him thoughtfully. Of all the people in the room, he knew that Logan understood the most. “Don’t think about this too much,” he said.

Erik shook his head. “I can’t help it.”

“I’m just saying, you know what can happen.”

“Yes, I do.” Erik said with absolute certainty.

With that, he walked out of the conference hall and away from the rest of the team without another word.


	3. Brian Xavier

**_London,_ **

**_Xavier Laboratories_ **

**_Six months ago_ **

 

“Sir,” Brian Xavier’s secretary, Aileen Strong, poked her head around the office door, nodding to him. “Your ten o’clock is here. Should I let her in?” She asked warily.

Brian smiled. “Why didn’t you just call me?” He asked, motioning toward his office phone. His secretary had always been like a rather motherly figure to him and had been with the company for a long time. He remembered when she used to work for his father and when his mother died when he was just sixteen. He had looked to her for support since then and she had never failed him.

Aileen stood by the doorway and sighed. “I don’t like being around her, you know that.” She chastised him as though it was his fault that _she_ was there in the first place.

He heaved a deep sigh as well and dropped his head into his hands. He supposed it was his fault that she was there. Brian almost forgot that he made an appointment with her because she said she had something important to say. He didn’t know why he agreed to meet with her. Perhaps it was the urgency in her voice when she called him. He had cut off all ties with her after what happened _that day._

_And now she’s back,_ he thought gravely. “Send her in,” he said, resigned. He might as well listen to what she had to say and get everything over with.

Aileen nodded and walked away and a few minutes later, Moira McTaggert stepped inside his office, closing the door behind her. “It’s been a while, Brian.” She said, looking at him directly.

“I thought I told you to leave me and my family alone,” he said sternly, motioning for her to sit down. “I thought I made myself quite clear that day.”

Moira nodded because she knew this. The last time they spoke, it did not end well. That was almost eighteen years ago. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

He and Moira had been friends since their university days, before she became a different person upon joining the CIA. He met his wife, Sharon, through her. “What do you mean?” Brian said in a low vice. He wanted to get their conversation over with. There was too much bad blood between them.

She looked at him for a long time before saying, “How are Charles and Raven?”

He knew that she was stalling and his patience was running low. “I’m growing tired of this conversation, Moira. Say your piece and leave.” He said impatiently. “Are you here to apologise for what happened?” He added.

Moira never did apologise for what she did.

She looked at him and suddenly there was anger in her eyes. “I have _nothing_ to apologise for. You know that.”

Brian did not know that. All he knew was that she had something to do with what happened eighteen years ago, why Jakob called him in a panic asking him to take care of Max, his only son. Brian dropped everything he was doing then and flew to Germany to see Jakob and his family. He was too late, however. When he arrived Jakob and Eddie were already dead and little Max was missing.

“How dare you say that?” Brian asked angrily. “Don’t you remember what happened? Max was just a child, Moira. Jakob asked you to help him! And what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Moira answered just as angrily.

“Exactly!” He was yelling now. It didn’t matter though. He didn’t care. He had to get his point across and if this was the only way to do it, then so be it. “You didn’t do anything! Jakob was our friend. I wasn’t the only one he called that day. And you were in a better position to help him! I was just a civilian and I dropped everything I was doing to come to him. _You_ abandoned him.”

He was surprised to see tears in her eyes at that point. “I was following orders,” she answered shakily.

“You didn’t deserve his friendship.” Brian said into the silence.

There was silence for a few minutes and when Moira next spoke, her voice was firm. “That’s not what I came here to talk about.” She pulled out a file from her bag with the CIA logo stamped in front of it and handed it to him.

He opened it and perused the files carefully and his attention was caught by what looked like a surveillance photo of a man, possibly around his son’s age or older, as he exited what appeared to be a bar. “Who is this?” He asked, holding up the surveillance photo.

“Jakob’s son.” Moira said carefully.

“What?” He said in disbelief.

She nodded. “Yes. A few years back, I followed a lead and it turned out that—” she stopped, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I didn’t tell you immediately because I wanted to make sure it was really him. And well, he really is Max Eisenhardt.”

Brian was stunned into silence. He wanted to say something, to demand an explanation of some sort but he could not seem to form the words.

Thankfully, Moira somewhat understood what he was trying to say. “Apparently he ran away that day. He ended up getting adopted into a family who immediately moved him overseas. That’s why you couldn’t find him. They changed his name and they made new records for him.”

“Max,” he whispered. It was Jakob’s last request from him before he died. He asked him to take care of his son. He hoped that he was not too late. “How long have you been sitting on this?”

“About a year,” Moira answered.

“That long? And you never bothered to pick up the phone?” He asked, his anger resurfacing.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me. You told me to stay away.”

Brian had to grudgingly admit that she had a point. “You could have at least warned me.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure it really was Max. I didn’t want you and your family to be disappointed again. But I’m a hundred percent certain now.” Moira said firmly.

It pained him to think of Jakob’s boy. Brian last saw him when he was just seven or eight years old. He remembered that he and Charles used to be close and his sudden disappearance from their life affected his son in ways that he could not even begin to describe.

He wondered how Charles would react once he told him the news.

He pushed those thoughts away for the time being. He needed to focus on the matter at hand. “Did you do a DNA test?” He asked.

“Of course I did. What do you take me for?” Moira said disbelievingly. “You’re welcome to do your own tests if you want though. Results are there.” She added, motioning toward the files.

Brian nodded, flipping through the papers and finally finding the test results. “Erik Lehnsherr?” He asked, looking at the name on the topmost corner of the paper.

“That’s the name he goes by now,” she answered. “The name his adoptive parents give him. Apparently, he doesn’t remember much of what happened before he was Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

Moira shook her head. “I figured you should. Jakob told you to keep his son safe. He trusted you. You’ll take better care of him.”

“You know Jakob trusted you too. He would have wanted you to take care of him too.” Brian said somewhat grudgingly.

Moira smiled bitterly. “Yeah, well, according to you I took that trust and threw it out the window. I wasn’t a good enough friend to you both and you were right,” she said, voice dripping with resentment. “That’s why you’re the one with mansion and the money and the two point five kids and I’m the workaholic loser who couldn’t even make my relationship work. You’re better suited for this job than I ever will be.”

With that, Moira gave him one last bitter smile before walking away.


End file.
